


Wolves of Winter

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Marriage, Post-Series, Sexual Content, post a dream of spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: She smiled as Jon rolled off of her and pulled her to him, his chest rising and falling slowly as he succumbed to sleep.She buried further into his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his skin. A dream of spring, she thought vaguely as her own eyes started to droop. Winterfell rebuilt, children running within the keep again – a Robb and an Eddard, perhaps a Lyanna too. Her smile grew and she pressed a kiss to where she could feel Jon’s beating heart beneath her fingers.It was time for the wolves to come again.Day 10 of 12 Days of Jonsa: First time tropeAlso part of "we're part of each other" universe.





	Wolves of Winter

“I still cannot believe that you and Jon are to be wed,” Arya said as she passed Sansa her crown.

Sansa smiled shyly at her in the mirror, her fingers twisting nervously as they waited for Bran and Rickon to arrive. Bran, being the oldest of her brothers remaining to her was traditionally supposed to give her away but Rickon had been so distraught at not being involved that they had bent the rules of tradition and allowed both Bran and Rickon to give her to Jon.

She remembered her wedding to Harry, how nervous she had been and how she had hated the fact she had had to marry him to return home. Harry had remained as arrogant as always, if possible even more so since he learned he had taken the eldest Stark daughter’s maidenhead.

She was nervous this time too but more because she wanted to please Jon and, while she had counted herself lucky at the time she now curses the fact she has never given pleasure to a man other than in the traditional sex position. She has heard about ways to pleasure men with her mouth and her hand, overheard many tales when she had posed as a bastard girl who needed no filter from such crude conversations. But hearing about such things and doing them were two different things.

Jon has never pushed her for more, only stealing a few kisses from her here and there, perhaps the odd lingering touch of his hand on her hip. She had told him once that she wouldn’t mind laying with him, he was the husband she had chosen after all, the one man who would marry her for love and not Winterfell. Jon had smiled at her and told her that she was to be his lady and his Queen so he would treat her with respect and not bed her until their wedding night. He had grinned at her wolfishly, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before telling her he couldn’t promise he would treat her like a lady the next morning. He had delighted in her pink cheeks for the rest of the day.

“You look beautiful Sansa,” Arya said and Sansa grinned, turning to face her sister.

“Thank you,” she replied gently. “And thank you for being so understanding.”

“I just want you and Jon to be happy,” Arya said simply. “I still think it is weird but I guess he is still a brother to me. If you guys are happy then that is all that matters. You both deserve to be happy.”

***

Her courage was leaving her now that she stood in the room, her back to the door as Jon entered. She felt her breath picking up, felt her palms sweat as she curled her hands tightly.

She jerked at the feel of his hand on her hip and she chanced a glance at him over her shoulder, looking away almost as quickly. His right palm spread across her stomach, the other grasping her hip gently as he kissed her neck, up to her cheek. The hand on her stomach travelled upwards, squeezing the soft curve of her breast.

“Oh!” she gasped as his thumb stroked her nipple through the sheer material of her nightshirt.

“Come to bed wife,” he whispered against her ear, using the hand at her hip to turn her and then taking her hand, leading her back to the bed.

“I want...” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks heat up. Jon sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her so she stands between his parted legs. He reached up and kissed her, leaving her panting and dazed and she momentarily forgot what she was going to say.

He pulled her on top of him as he lay back on the bed and then flipped them over so that she was beneath him. She squirmed as his lips traced her neck, his hands running up her legs as he lifted the hem of her shift. She gasped as he traced the shape of her through her smallclothes.

“I want to please you,” she murmured, moaning as his fingers dipped beneath the material to touch her sex.

“You do please me,” he whispered as his fingers began to move in small, gentle circles. Sansa’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as she feels pleasure course through her, making her stomach flutter, her thighs tighten and her mouth part as she moans.

“Jon?” she questioned, grasping his wrist even as she bucked up. Jon was watching her face intently, his fingers starting to move faster.

“Its alright sweetling,” he murmured, kissing her cheek softly. “I want you to feel good. Does it feel good?”

“Yes, yes!” she moaned as she felt her body tensing and then flopping back boneless and sated.

She felt him pull her smallclothes down her legs, watched through half-lidded eyes as his other hand untied the ties of her shift, the hand between her thighs rising to help push the material apart and reveal her breasts. He grinned at her as he kissed down her collarbone to her breasts, kissing alone to her right nipple before he enclosed his lips around it, suckling gently.

She had thought he was going to start with the actual bedding but instead she watched in confusion as he slid down her body pressing kisses as he went and then he gently spread her legs, hands curling under her knees to push them up and apart, her feet hovering over her shoulders. She flushed scarlet, staring through the V shape as he stared at her sex.

She keened at the first swipe of his tongue, her entire body trembling as he continued to lick and kiss her sensitive flesh. Her hands spread out across the bed, desperate to hold some composure against the glorious attack of his tongue and lips. She hears desperate moaning, her face heating further as she realised it was her.

His dark curls are silken beneath her fingers as she digs her hands through the strands, legs stretching out as she feels the pleasure build again. It feels so good, she no longer cares how wanton she felt, how exposed she was, all that mattered was reaching that peak.

When she came down, Jon was watching her with a barely contained smirk. Her hands rose to cover her face in shame of her behaviour. She heard him chuckle, his hands curling around her wrists to pull her hands away.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “I have thought about how pretty you would look like this and you didn’t disappoint!”

“Jon!” she gasped in shock, regarding him with wide eyes. His grin just seemed to widen at her response.

“I love you,” he murmured, rising up to kiss her cheek. She softened immediately, giving him a small smile as he settled between her legs. And then she remembered what she had meant to do.

“Jon, wait!” she said, gently pushing his shoulder. Jon stilled immediately, looking at her in concern. She pushed his shoulder again, grateful for his compliant nature as she guided him onto his back. His eyebrows rose, his eyes darkening as he watched her straddle him. She blinked in confusion…she hadn’t even started with what she wanted to do yet. He blinked, eyes wide as though he had done something wrong.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, hands stroking her hips tenderly. Sansa frowned.

“What is it?” she asked softly, smiling in confusion as for once, it was Jon’s cheeks turning a light pink.

“I …um…I thought you were going to ride me,” he mumbled, eyes darting away in embarrassment. Sansa tilted her head, curious.

“Can…can it be done that way?” she questioned, her fingers unconsciously tracing his chest, tenderly tracing his scars. Jon smiled, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek.

“It can be done many ways,” he whispered, his dark eyes focussed on her lips as he continued in that low, husky tone that sent shivers down Sansa’s spine. “Maybe we’ll try a few tonight, we have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

“Jon!” she gasped, cheeks heating up at the insinuation that he wanted to bed her all night…and the fact that she desperately wanted that too.

“So, what were you going to do?” he prompted after a moment of silence. Sansa bit her lip, nervousness seeping through her once more.

“I told you that I wanted to please you,” she said after taking a shuddering breath to gather her courage. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his hesitantly, using a kiss to distract him from noticing how shy and inexperienced she still is, despite not being a maiden.

Jon moans softly as she kissed him, another pleased sound escaping him as her fingers traced his hips, skimming along the hard muscles of his stomach. When her hands pushed beneath the material of his breeches, he broke the kiss with a startled gasp.

“Sansa, what..mmmm,” he trailed off with a long groan as she grasped him, fascinated by the silky feel of him, the way he starts to harden beneath her fingers.

“What do I do?” she whispered, pausing as she looked at him. His eyes met hers and then he sat up, undoing the ties of his clothing. He shifts to the end of the bed, standing quickly and shoving the breeches to the floor, kicking them out of the way. Sansa’s fingers toy with the hem of her shift and she glanced at him in silent question.

“You can leave it if you want,” he assured her as he climbed back onto the bed. “Whatever makes you comfortable sweetling.”

“You will be the first man to see me fully naked,” she explained with a blush. “You were the first to ….to do that too…” she added with a shy look at his lips and a blushing glance towards the apex of her thighs. She saw Jon’s hand reach for her, curling around the curve of her hip.

“It won’t be the last,” he promised, kissing her neck again. “If I could, I would pleasure you all day with my fingers and tongue.”

“I want…” she began, his bite to her shoulder causing her to stutter. “I want to do it to you.”

“What?” Jon asked, sitting back to look at her with furrowed eyebrows. “You want to…?”

“Yes,” she said with determination. “But I don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do I,” he confessed with a laugh. “I’ve never had a woman do that for me.”

“Really?” she replied in shock. She had heard about his wildling lover, that Jon had loved her and lain with her under furs almost every night. Surely a woman like that would have pleasured Jon with her mouth.

“Really,” he affirmed. Sansa bit her lip, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face.

“I am glad I am your first for something then,” she teased. Jon hummed, allowing her to push him onto his back.

She decided to copy what he had done to her, kissing down his chest and his stomach. But as she neared her destination she felt her nervousness return. Jon stroked her hair gently.

“You don’t need to do this Sansa,” he whispered but she shook her head.

“I want to,” she insisted. “But I just need a moment.”

He nodded, his hands moving to stroke her side soothing. Sansa took a deep breath and shifted to lie on her stomach, Jon’s hands falling to the side by the movement. She still had no idea what she was doing but she would just have to learn as she went she supposed. She was always good at picking things up.

She grasped him, holding his length steady before she tentatively licked up. Jon inhaled sharply, fingers twitching on the covers. That was a good start, she supposed before she shifted again, swirling her tongue around the tip.

“Gods,” Jon breathed, blinking up at the ceiling repeatedly.

Sansa grinned and then parted her lips and took the head of him into her mouth. Jon’s hands grasped the covers tightly as she hummed, intrigued by the slight salty taste of the flesh. She hadn’t expected that but it wasn’t bad.

She continued to experiment, bobbing her head slowly to find a rhythm and when he gasped, squirming under her she smiled to herself and continued with the movement. She tried engulfing him more but she spluttered, eyes watering and she pulled off of him with a cough, dribble running down her chin.

“Are you alright?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the crown of her head. She nodded, feeling the tears starting to spring to her eyes at the fact she had failed. She turned her head as Jon kissed her forehead, her cheek and then turned her head again so he could kiss her lips. “Sweetling, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll get better at it.”

“It was good,” he assured her, kissing her cheek again. “Honestly, I did enjoy it. If you want to practice I won’t stop you but I don’t want you to feel that you have to do it, alright?”

She nodded, sniffing slightly and allowing Jon to pull her back to his chest, kissing her hair again. She turned, burying her head in his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He dropped his lips to her neck, nipping at her skin again as he gently laid her back down on the furs.

“Now,” he said with a grin, running his hand up her thigh, parting her legs and letting his cock run across her folds before settling at her opening. “I think I can make you feel better.”

She gasped as he pushed inside her, her fingers digging into his arms as he began to move. It had never felt like this, she had never felt so wonderfully full and wanton from a man’s touch, from his cock being inside her.

The slick slide of him, filling her over and over, the way he whimpered at her neck, licked at her skin made her eyes roll back, her legs tighten, her nails dig into his bicep. And then, her hips started to rise of their own accord, a natural, instinctual dance and she felt her lips parting, heard the moans as they fell from her mouth, echoing around the room. Jon groaned, thrusting harder as his hand drifted down, fingers parting her folds to find her bundle of nerves, stroking and rubbing gently.

This time, her climax is gentler than her others but she is sated all the same, a pleased hum escaping her as Jon pushed deep inside of her, back arching and his face pulling into a grimace as he came inside of her.

“Gods,” he whispered, slumping down enough to rest his forehead against hers. She smiled, hands coming up to stroke his shoulders and his back in reassurance. He moved slightly, kissing her cheek and she gave him a puzzled frown, the crease between her eyes only deepening with his next words.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever for?” she asked, giving a small chuckle. “If anything, I should be thanking you!”

“For saving me,” he whispered.

She remembered him in the crypts, after his true parentage was revealed. She remembered the feel of Ghost huddled around their forms as she held Jon close to her breast, stroked his hair and assured him that he was a Stark to her.

“Ghost should get credit too,” she teased. Jon hummed.

“Yes, he can be useful sometimes,” he said, casting a look over his shoulder to where Ghost was laid out in front of the fire, undeterred from their coupling. As if sensing their conversation, he lifted his head and his red eyes glowed as he regarded them silently. Sansa smiled, thanking him in her mind. Thanked him for protecting Jon, for bringing Jon home and for bringing Jon to her, for allowing her to have a taste of dreams again.

She smiled as Jon rolled off of her and pulled her to him, his chest rising and falling slowly as he succumbed to sleep.

She buried further into his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his skin. A dream of spring, she thought vaguely as her own eyes started to droop. Winterfell rebuilt, children running within the keep again – a Robb and an Eddard, perhaps a Lyanna too. Her smile grew and she pressed a kiss to where she could feel Jon’s beating heart beneath her fingers.

It was time for the wolves to come again.


End file.
